A vigilantes' rendezvous
by VictorsGrace
Summary: WHAT would in actuallity happen, if Garrus and FemShep unified their romance in full, in the shadow of looming, possible apocalypse? Written as a continuation of the "bed scene" in ME 2, if you choose to romance Garrus Vakarian. Worked to keep in character. NOT smut, erotic shortfic one-shot, MA 18 content .


**Authorts note: The characters belong to BioWare, I am merely borrowing them.**

This is my suggestion to what would happen in ME2, after the "bed scene", if Shepherd and Garrus actually carried their romance out to full, or "popping the heat sinc" ;.). It is an erotic, one-shot, shortfic and I will not carry it into a "relation ship" romance, as I believe the concept of a commen relationship would never occur between them and still be real.

I've done my best to keep them in character – I hope you enjoy reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it. ;.)

**A vigilantes' rendezvous**

Suddenly the vastness of space was the only sound in the room; as if the vacuum of the darkness and emptyness outside had creeped into us, into the bed. It wasn't uneasyness – just... emptyness.

Garrus lay silent. I looked at him out of the corner of my eye, my head on his chest. He had his attention on something – it was hard to decipher wether it was near or on some past memory. A silent remark that his eyes often failed to reveal his emotions to me, unlike human eyes, sneaked into my mind – quickly repressed. My stomach tensed... The doctors words reverberated along with this notion. I regretted having that conversation and Garrus' remark on not having watched the vids worried me.

Were this really what we were looking for? Or was it some sort of insane reaction to the enormours layers of stress we were exposed to? The possibility of dying... We cared for each other, without a doubt, but... I'd never before broken my policy of sexual conduct with a squadmember... But Garrus stirred something in me and the thought of him loosing his life, in serving me...

As if he'd travelled along the same thoughts as mine, his hand squeesed my arm. It was a different touch, capable of being much more powerfull, very controlled. I looked at him and his eyes sought mine. _I must look as foreign to him, as he does to me_. "_I want someone I can trust"_... True, I did. I needed it. I craved it. _You were so passionate, when we first met,_ I thought, _so high strung. Eager._ A part of me back then had been annoyed, feeling my authority had been challanged. Alot of me had wanted to suppress that, take my stand against him. I came on strong – maybe this was anoher way to excert my position, to control what I could in this chaos.

His breathing was even, his attention fixed. There was something undeniably predatory and aroused over him, held back. A little human fear stirred inside me and childishly I denied it.

"Garrus", I started. "I … " my words trailed off.

He moved his face closer to mine. "Shepherd," he added. "I meant what I said. There are no one I respect more in this universe than you." He sounded as unsure as I felt, skilledly masked. I pretended not to notice. "If you wish for this, I … I cannot deny my interest or arousal..." He stopped.

I sat up, more suddenly then I intended. The uncertainty in his eyes were more vivid than I cared for. "How about we open that wine?"

If he could have smiled, I guessed he would. "Sure," he purred. "now would be as good a time as any." He roose his body elegantly, walked over to the table and grabbed the bottle. I observed him, his back turned at me. Strange how relations can build in different ways – so different a body, yet so familiar a person. Af if he'd grown on me.

The lid popped and he turned around, glasses in hand. The liqued sounded sweet and welcoming under the circumstances. We sat next to each other, eyes on the glass in our laps. I took a deep slug of it, enjoying the cold and sweetness slipping down my throat. He observed me, a glimmer of a smile in his eyes as if this small, recognizable enjoyment amused him and calmed him. He slugged his own glass back, emptying it in one draw.

I returned his stare and broke into laughter, followed by his flanging laugther. Something in both of us released and the relaxation and warmness returned. I felt the wine trickle in my blood and a rush tingle in my cheeks. "You're a good man, Garrus Vakarian." I stated. "If that would be an appropriate statement."

For the first time I saw his eyes smile. He hmm'ed warmly, looking down as the last of his laugh stilled. Without other comments, he refilled our glasses and rose his to a toast:

"To vengeance and victory," he stated, a small slur in his voice. I smiled, "To defiance" I added and we clinged our glasses and emptied their confidence-providing contents.

Time passed and the wine merged our companionship into a smoother, lighter conversation. We lay on our backs, talking about a childhood on Palaven, my upbringing in the various military fleets, dreams, hopes, experiences, wishes and desires. The bottle reached its halfness. Touching the subject of desire, I dared myself to ask into Turian mating rituals.

"_Rituals_?", Garrus stated. "Sounds like a bad documentary on the behavior of migrating birds." He croaked. I laughed sheepishly.

"C'mon," I kept on. "What do you do? I mean... _how_ do you do? You know, how do you - " I gestured a very known hand indication on Earth "_do_?"

Garrus seemed to think a little bit about that gesture. He turned his stare to the ceiling again, pushing his crest back into the pillow. Although minorily calmed by the wine, the uneasy part of me couldn't help but notice how the crest pressed itself into the fabric – unrelenting, sharp. I fixed my gase on the lines of his jaw instead, focusing on the humanoid parts of his neck.

"Well," he started. "I suppose it's not that different from other races." He took a sip of his wine. "We have courtships, contests, attraction," he turned his face to look at me. "flirting... male and female... interaction." I blushed at his stare (_stupid wine..!_).

"No, no, no," I said. "you don't get off that easy. C'mon – tell me. I'll tell you all about human 'interaction' afterwards, I promise. It'll blow your mind." Something in his eyes shifted, very different to the current mood.

"Really, Shepherd..." he moved his arm away from me. "It's a very... _different_ interaction. Rough," he sat up. "harder than you'd - ..." he looked at me, over his shoulder, turning his gaze to look forward at nothing in particular again. "Maybe we should think this through again."

I sat up and touched his arm. It tensed. "Garrus. I trust you. I believe we can make this work."

"Yes," his voice trailed off. "but _why_ Sehpherd? What's the point of it all? Are we just proving something to ourselves out of pre-combat desperation?"

I thought about it. "Maybe..." he didn't move. "Maybe we are." I eyed the zipper that ran along the back of his suit. My stomach curled, noting the vague bumps pressing against the fabric, along his spine. I emptied the last of my glass and put it on the counter. I reached out and touched it, gripping it. I felt him tense up, moving his head to the side to look at me. I kept my eyes on the zipper, slowly moving it down.

Running down, it revealed skin. Greyish skin. It looked foreign and strangely familiar. I urged the zipper downwards, uncovering the first plating on his back. Unvoluntarily I stopped in my track, eyeing the growth. Garrus stiffened, noting my pause. It looked hornish in material, or bone maybe. I stroked my finger over it – it was rough, but not sharp. Probably bone. The edges were smooth, with a defined solidness in the material. I urged the zipper onwards, with more speed now. Unhindered it ran to its end, releasing the sides of his overcoat.

His back was strong. The muscles in his body very clearly defined, toned. The blues veins could be seen here and there, running under the skin. Under the coat his breathing was more visible, a bit uneven.

I reached out and touched his right shoulder muscle: The skin was hairless and smooth with a bit of resistance. I ran my finger along the line where his crest met the skin. He uttered a low growl at my touch and emptied his glass, as if to boost courage. Turning around, he searched my face and front body. His brushed my arm, running his hand down my side. He followed it as if confirming the perceptions he recieved through his outfit.

My hand reached to his fringe, caressing it. It was of a much rougher material, hardened, sharp at the edges. I noted the contrast between the softness of my fingers and the solidness of his plating, but he seemed to be able to sense the touch. He moved his face closer to mine, waiting. I returned the action, gently pressing my lips against his 'lips'. A rush surged through me, partially excitement and partially entoxication.

He moved them to welcome my gesture, giving me goosebumps at the estranged sensation. They were hardened like fine leather, but soft and moist. There were no traces of any smells. I sensed he was attentative not to let them uncover his side teeth. I kissed them, engulfed in a rush of blood to the head. He reached his tounge out and I felt his excitement equal to mine, from the heat of his body.

There were not much alianation to this contact and observably it gave us both pleasure. His body tensed even more and a slightly audbile growl emminated from the dephts of his chest. "Shepherd," he wishered affectedly, "I fear, I... we... We most be careful... take it at an easy pace." I kissed him again, lost in my own entoxication. "I don't trust myself" he breathed. I nodded as reply.

Eyes locked to mine, he suddenly shifted his attitude. He sat up straight, staging a proud posture. It was a clear insight to the proud, animalistic male in him and I realised some ritual was present in that side of his nature. I was an enticing sight. Slowly he pulled his overcoat of, sitting still infront of me, proud, head cocked to the side and observing me with interest.

I noticed his talons and observed his hands, fabric free, for the first time. They were predatorish but I didn't feel endangered. I felt intrigued. His gaze pierced me and made me terribly self-aware. For once, I lost my integrity in the postion as Commander. Horridly the truth of my vulnerability fell over me, shaking something inside me. He did not seem to notice, if so it was ignored. Remembering the battles I'd faced, the scars, tough choices and losses throughout this somewhat short life, I braved myself.

With a slight shudder, I reached to my collar. His gaze was fixated. Funny how your brain fires off under pressure of intense, hormonal stimulation. A short flicker of an old vid of a woman falling into a tigers cage flashed before my eyes; that instant when she realises she's actually in the cage, when the tiger confronts her and the unknownness of the perril hangs thick in the air.

I grabbed my own zipper and forced it down. It slid, unaware of the importance of it's rutine performance. Holding my breath, I pulled my coat down over my shoulders. Garrus' grey/green eyes explored my chest and upper body as if trying to add something up, draw parrallels of familiar sights unto this new sight. Fluidly he reached for me, stroked my breast. The sensation shook me – his hand was rougher than his back, with noted scalings on the fingers, but still smooth to the touch. A very small part of my brain panicked, having raced furhter into this ordeal and not settling too well with what my imagination offered us. I stifled it, like a kid daring herself to dive into the pool to secure a toy, scared shitless of the water.

Observing me, he gently pulled at my bra, letting the straps fall down my shoulders. The air was slightly chilly in the room and the situation itself awkward and intense, like a teenage adventure. No training could have prepared me for this and I admit that some sort of madness was undeniable in the execution of this idea. Perhaps I should have taken more heed to the doctors words, especialley the part of anaphalactic shock.

Suddenly Garrus leaned over me, forcing me down on the bed. His back arched powerfully, his waitst pressed down against mine. The movement took me by surprise – suddenly our act dawned on me. White flashes of panic ran through my brain. _What are you doing, Shepherd?_ my brain screamed, but still the racing of my heart and the rushing of my blood was undeniable. I had instinctively grabbed his chest, noticing now that his breathing had increased, exited and uneven. The middle crest that ran down his chestcase pressed slightly against my body. I felt the harm it was capable of doing and pondered wether the wine had been a good idea – not unlike drunk driving on a brothers stolen license.

He bend his head down, caressing my throat and neck, nibbling me and stroking me with the sides of his head. I cringed my head back, baring my skin to him, stroking the smooth part of his abdomen. He reacted strongly to this, grabbing my hip and pressing against me. The pressure intensifed caused his hipbone to dig into me, making me wince. He noted and automatically lowered the pressure.

We had crossed the line; it was too late to turn back now. The common humiliation would be too much to save any partnership that would be left. Stating a rejection like that would be too much for him and I don't know if I could stand by that act.

Our movements became a mixture of rushed intoxication, winces, and "Auch – be carefull..!"'s, ruffling the sheets. Wine rushing in both our heads, I vaguely remembered the doctors suggestions. _Positions, positions..._ I thought hazily. As if wanting to get over the scariest part for both of us, our lower garments were removed hurridly and clumsily, in a mixture of kicks and pulling and slightly nervous laughs.

Having rushed all the way through, we suddenly stopped. Panting, we looked at each other. I never saw his eyes shine like that, full of exitement, confidence... I smiled to him, stroking the scarred side of his face. His eyes searched mine as we lay there and breathed together. I lifted my head to kiss the scars ripped on his face and he suddenly penetrated me. The realization of the act was a shock in itself – I unwillingly gasped and gripped his shoulders. He'd stopped his action, staying there. My heart raced, my mind ran wild. We lay still again, getting ourself under control. As the seconds passed I calmed a bit. I let my mind wander to the perceptions I recieved... sensed... The sensation was not as foreign as I had expected or imagined.

Breathing very controlled and deeply, he started to move. The movement was fluid and we were able to match. A slow, deep pleasure rolled over me, rushing heat to my back and head. I relaxed and stroked his waist, all of it smooth and without plating.

He rose up, supporting himself on his arms, looking down at me with that same intense glare and moved into a now steady, easy pace. I saw the pleasure in him too, although more in check. Time and thoughts flew away and merged into thickness of desire and the foggyness of stimulation. We moved together, flowed together. It seemed more right than I admit to having expected.

Our paces quickened in bodily contact, intensifying together. It became vividly harder for him to control himself, gripping the bed, his talons digging into the matress. His structure began to shake, muscles cramping under the strain of holding himself back. I kissed his neck, moaning into him, letting myself get lost in it all. Suddenly he pulled out, groaning and bending his head down to my chest. By bare luck his crest just missed my face.

We lay still, panting... Our heated action had warmed the air around us, enclosing us in slight moisture. He rolled over to his side, laying his arm over the pillow and turning his head away, the other arm rested on his chest, letting his breathing normalise. We both cooled slowly, feeling in our own ways the enticement fade, the thoughts click into place and the rush dim. A deep relaxation washed over me and a great feeling of relief. A slight chuckle suddenly emmanated from Garrus, his figure slightly shaking. The chuckle continued as he turned to face me, turning into a laughter.

I laughed with him, knowing exactly how he felt: Laughed at the fact that we both escaped unscaved, laughed at our crazyness of the whole thing, at our revealment to ourselves, at the looming situation which awaited us...

Letting the laughter fade, I reached over and slid my hand under his. "Thank you." I simply said. He gave a slight nod to reply and ran his talons through my hair. "At your service, Commander." He smirked, were he able.

We didn't talk much after that, but simply lay and enjoyed each others prescence. The rest of the wine was shared, some small memories exchanged of this and that while we lay and observed the aquarium together, our speech getting slurry, finally giving in to the welcomed oblivion of sleep.

There was a very real comfort in knowing he was there, feeling the weight of his body in the bed... Knowing that whatever lay ahead of us, we had each others back... He would be there for me and I would acknowledge him. Whatever happened, it would not be in vain and our actions would not be for nothing.

We could affect the outcome that would be, we could endure together.

_If we do go, Garrus_ I blurred in my head, as sleep overpowered me. I could hear him breething heavily behind me, already lost in his own world. _Meet me at the bar... I'm buying_.

**END -**

by

Victoria Mortensen.


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